Prison
by PatientNumber10
Summary: Azula gets a decent visitor in prison for the first time, one that doesn't hurt her or kill themselves in front of her. But is this visitor really decent?


**A/N: **This is kind of a sequel to my other fanfic, She Always Smiles, which, might I add, is not bashing Ty Lee. It looks like it, but no, I'll never bash Ty Lee. Ever. Ty Lee's awesome with all that chi blocking thingy she does and not to mention cute.

So, this fic tells about the part after Azula was imprisoned and what Ty Lee did after returning from Kyoshi Island and visiting Azula for the first time. And this fic kind of confirms what Azula thought of Ty Lee's smile in the other prequel fic. This is a twisted TyZula, where Ty Lee's evil and Azula's innocent (her mental state turned into a child's after some time in prison). For some reason, I like it when someone in my favorite pairing is evil. Maybe it's because I'm a psycho?

Enough from me. Enjoy and tell me if there are mistakes that annoy you, or if the entire fic annoys you. I'm against flaming, but you may flame if you want.

**Disclaimer: **ATLA? Nah.

**From One Prison to Another**

She molded the sand carefully into a figure that resembled a palace, tracing her finger mechanically over the edges and pouring the right amount of water in the right places. The palace was not sand actually, but dirt and mud that had accumulated in that corner of that corner of the room, but she called it sand. And she was wasting what little water given to her just to create that little monument she can draw limited pleasure from. It was a curious piece of art for her; she had never seen a palace before, but was sure that it was one indeed.

Closing her eyes, she let the sun's warmth seep into and soothe her body. Well, that is, if the sun could penetrate the thick walls of her dark and cold, and windowless room. She often marveled at how she could still breathe in that suffocating box.

She frowned. _The palace has a big wall around it_, she thought_, not as many walls as the other palace, though, but there's still one._ Then, after smoothing the last tower roof, the young woman proceeded to build a wall around her masterpiece.

The door to her room opened and greenish figure approached her. It stopped at the vertical metal bars that divided her room into two; there was a side for her and a side for the visitors. The figure crouched and observed the girl on the other side.

After a moment, it said, "Hello."

She smoothed the side of the wall, slow and calculating, ignoring the figure at the other side. She had lots of visitors before and most of them had sharp objects in their hands, and when she starts speaking to them they would yell at her, at someone who's not there and stab themselves repeatedly––sometimes gouging out their eyes, sometimes slitting their throats––until they fall on the floor in a bloody mess. She used to reach out of the bars, begging them to stop, but they would always pull away, yelling more and increasing the pace of their stabbing, and then die in front of her. She had learned her lesson and stopped acknowledging their existence, and they disappear.

When she had finished the wall, she beamed at the molded dirt and mud.

"That's a very nice replica," the figure said, cheerfully. "You really have a brilliant memory. It looks exactly like the Fire Palace, Azula."

Having heard her name, Azula turned to the metal bars and saw a young woman, more or less about her age, in green clothes. She had rich, brown hair that was neatly collected in a long braid, and grey, stormy-colored eyes that fit in Azula's somber room. The young woman's face looked uncomfortably familiar to Azula, and then she thought, _yes, it's that one._

Azula nodded uncertainly. This was the first time a visitor had talked to her as if she were a real human being. It's a pity losing a sensible person so soon. She stared at the young woman, waiting for the inevitable.

"Is there something on my face?"

Azula shook her head. "You aren't going to stab yourself to death?"

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"You did it before."

"Before…?" The brunette frowned, making a mental note ask the doctors who said Azula wasn't hallucinating anymore. For the mean time, she'll have a chat with her.

"How come you're not scary anymore? You seemed more frightening on your last visits even when you did nothing. You just sat there and smiled as if you know that something bad is going to happen. How come you're not like that anymore?" Azula said before she could open her mouth to start the conversation.

"When did anything scare you? You used to say that you were fear itself."

The imprisoned girl looked confused. _Fear, _she thought. She inclined her head in a questioning manner as she stared openly at the other girl. The other girl scolded herself. She visited Azula to make her forget the past, and here she was bringing it up. She had to talk about other things.

"Do you miss it outside?"

It was a question that Azula had to answer. Hers and Azula's future would depend on what her answer would be.

"But I've never been outside," said Azula. "I was born here and never to be let out. Although that's what the other visitors who bring me food says."

The brunette leaned closer. "But do you like it in here?"

Azula glanced around, trying to imagine her room a wide field of red flowers. _Fire lilies, _she thought. Then, she turned back to the bars and looked down, comparing her cell with the field in her mind. Without hesitation, she picked the field of fire lilies. It looked worth more than her wet, dark prison.

"I'll let you let you if you would like to."

Finally, Azula nodded and thought she saw a faint smile on the other girl's lips. But when she observed her lips intently they looked as straight as the metal bars that kept them apart. The other girl tried to look impassive, containing the delight she was feeling inside. She went through all the things she and Azula would do once she was out. She'll give Azula a nice, hot bath first, next a massage, then–

"What about them?" Azula whispered, only loud enough for the brunette alone, while glancing at a corner at her left. "Won't you let them come with me? I bet they would like to go outside too."

Her stormy eyes went to the corner Azula was glancing at. A woman was there, standing and swaying, with gold, piercing eyes like Azula's. She was pale and thin, and her clothes, although it had royalty written all over it, were as filthy as her cellmate's. Her hair was a tangled mess that hung from her head to her buttocks. She had a knife in her right hand that sometimes threatened to fly over to Azula's direction.

Azula, then, glanced at her side too, where a boy, his face burnt, was staring up at the green-garbed girl. "But I guess he won't be coming, since he might set things on fire." Azula said, pointing to the other girl's right, where a severe-faced man sat, burning and never turning into ashes. Azula smiled wryly. "Sorry," she said, tipping her head, to the man.

The brunette saw nothing. She shook her head no.

"Fire Lord Zuko said only you could get out."

Azula hung her head in disappointment. "Oh," she said. "Fire Lord Zuko…? I hate him."

"I know."

There was silence. The grey-eyed girl sighed, slowly stood up and made her way to the door.

"W-where are you going?" Azula demanded, clutching at the bars. "D-don't leave me yet. You said you'll bring me out with you."

This was the most decent, actually the only decent conversation she had with someone. People who visited her would either hurt her, or kill themselves. She wasn't ready to let go of this friend yet.

The other girl stopped in her tracks. She smiled with satisfaction. Azula likes her now, is clinging to her. And if she comes to dislike her, Azula would be in too much gratitude to push her away. She turned around, managing to wipe off the smug smile on her lips and look at Azula with a face that didn't bring back nightmares and bad memories.

"I'm just going to get the guards to unlock your cell. I'll be back in a minute."

Then, she was out of the special prison cell of the former princess, now deranged Azula. She let the smugness creep back to her lips. But now it wasn't just a smirk, but a sneer. She doesn't care if Azula was crazy. As long as they were together, nothing else mattered.

And as Azula conversed and apologized to her cellmates, Ty Lee thought in glee, _You're my prisoner now_.


End file.
